973. 

2?a 


Stone,  Robert 

Abraham  Lincoln.   Address, 

February  9,  ?92?, 


LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 

HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


•_mii  111  ii  iiiiii  m  i  mm  Milium  1 1  nun  mm  urn  ii  milium  mi  mi  mm  ill iimiimiiiiiiiiiiiimiiimmmmimiiiimimimiiiimimmiiimiiimmmiiiimimi: 


Abraham  Lincoln 


Address  Delivered  Before 

TOPEKA  HI-TWELVE  CLUB 

on 
Wednesday,  February,  9th,  1927 

By 
ROBERT  STONE 

Topeka,  Kansas 


milMIIMMMMMMIIMM I IMIMIII Mill Ill I Ill  II II II IMM  Ml  1 1 II  III  M  III  I IIIIMMII II IIMIII 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1  re 


LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 

HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


( <5  oL  c^ 


IINCOLN'S  life  was  only  four  short  years — all  the  rest  was 
preparation  for  those  four  years  of  incomparable  service  to 
the  world  and  humanity,  which  no  other  man  of  that  gen- 
eration had  the  wisdom,  the  patience  or  the  fortitude  to  render. 
The  constitution  of  the  United  States  was  the  compass  by  which 
he  steered  the  ship  of  state,  and  free  government  by  the  people 
governed  was  the  goal  of  his  course.  No  other  statesman  of  his 
day  used  that  compass  implicitly  or  sought  that  goal  with  unfal- 
tering faith.  No  other  program  would  have  saved  our  flag  or 
made  a  government  of  the  people,  and  by  the  people  imperishable 
upon  the  earth. 

For  this  great  Task,  his  meager  preparation  was  this: 

A  term  or  so  in  a  poor  rural  school — his  only  schooling; 

Two  trips  to  New  Orleans  and  a  winter  in  Washington — 

his  only  contact  with  the  outside  world; 

A  petty   clerkship   and   then   a   partnership   in   a   crossroad 

grocery  store,  which  ented  in  bankruptcy — his  only  business 

experience; 

A   country   law   practice    following   the   circuits   about   the 
straggling  Illinois  county  seats — his  only  legal  training; 
Several   losing  campaigns   for  public   office,    four  terms  in 
the   Illinois   Legislature,   and   one   disappointing   session   in 
Congress — his  only  experience  in  statescraft  or  politics. 

How  could  such  a  course  fit  a  man  to  serve  a  nation  in  its  hour 
of  need?  It  would  seem  that  there  must  have  been  some  innate 
qualities  or  some  intimate  influence  of  the  home. 

The  home  life  was  poor  indeed.  As  a  child  he  knew  all  the 
hardships  of  pioneer  life.  You  and  I — some  of  us — have  seen  the 
great  ox  teams  patiently  pulling  their  trains  of  prairie  schooners 
along  the  Oregon  and  Santa  Fe  Trails  in  Kansas.  But  in  no  such 
romantic  and  royal  manner  did  his  parents  move  from  the  fast- 
nesses of  the  Kentucky  forests  to  the  unwelcome  fields  of  Indiana 
and  Illinois.  In  the  days  of  drouth  and  the  grasshoppers,  we 
have  seen  the  pioneer  Kansan  wending  his  weary  way  back  to  his 
wife's  folks  in  a  ramshackle  Conestoga  wagon  filled  with  old  fur- 
niture, a  sad-faced  wife  and  dirty  faced  children,  hauled  by  a  scrub 
team,  with  a  sore-footed  hound,  trailing  under  the  rear  axle,  but 
he  never  presented  a  more  forlorn  appearance  than  Thomas 
Lincoln  and  his  outfit  moving  from  one  hopeless  failure  to  start 
another  in  a  newer  and  more  desolate  place.  Our  parents  came 
here  in  the  early  50's  to  help  make  Kansas  a  free  state.  They  lived 
in  log  cabins,  sod  houses  and  dugouts.  Sometimes  the  feet  of  the 
children  were  frozen  in  the  cabins.  But  Thomas  Lincoln  passed  the 
first  winter  in  Indiana  in  what  was  called  an  open  camp.  It  was  a 
shanty  with  the  bank  of  a  hill  for  one  side,  with  a  poor  roof,  two 
ends  walled  up,  with  the  side  opposite  the  hill  left  open  to  the  ele- 
ments. The  only  fire  was  built  on  the  open  side.  It  is  little  wonder 
that  the  mother — the  beautiful,  high-strung  Nancy  Hanks,  did  not 


long  survive.  The  home  life  was  not  calculated  to  give  him  culture 
or  inspire  him  with  ambition.  There  were  little  schooling,  few 
books  and  little  social  life.  Yet  somehow  the  boy  grew  and  de- 
veloped. He  worked  in  the  fields,  in  stores  and  on  the  river.  He 
became  the  best  wrestler  and  story  teller  in  the  community.  He  got 
hold  of  a  few  classic  books  and  made  them  his  own.  He  fell  in 
with  a  surveyor  and  learned  a  little  mathematics.  He  found  a 
copy  of  Blackstone  and  became  a  county  lawyer.  He  ran  for  the 
Illinois  Legislature  and  became  a  local  politician  and  acquired  an 
interest  in  the  politics  and  history  of  his  country. 

There  must  have  been  some  unknown  strain  of  blood,  through 
Nancy  Hanks  or  through  his  father  from  his  Pilgrim  ancestors  who 
crossed  the  stormy  sea  to  establish  freedom  of  religion  in  America. 
So  that  somehow,  when  the  crisis  came,  by  some  strange  alchemy, 
this  seeming  dross  became  pure  gold;  this  unschooled  country 
lawyer,  with  his  pitiless  logic,  confounded  Douglas,  the  brilliant 
debater,  and  national  leader  of  Democracy;  this  man  from  the 
bookless  villages,  spoke  in  simple  classic  English — this  unknown 
man  became  the  chief  spokesman  of  a  great  new  party,  defining 
the  issue  as  no  one  else  had  dared  to  do.  He  became  a  voice  in  the 
wilderness,  crying, 

"A  house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand,  I  believe  this 
Government  cannot  endure  permanently  half  slave  and  half 
free.  I  do  not  expect  the  Union  to  be  dissolved;  I  do  not  ex- 
pect the  house  to  fall;  but  I  do  expect  that  it  will  cease  to  be 
divided." 

The  times  were  agog,  parties  were  falling  in  pieces,  Northern 
sentiment  was  hopelessly  divided,  and  agitation  and  uncertainty 
were  in  the  very  air.    Webster  had  said  only  a  few  years  before, 

"I  wish  to  speak  today,  not  as  a  Massachusetts  man,  nor  as 
a  northern  man,  but  as  an  American,  and  a  member  of  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States." 

"It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  we  live  in  the  midst  of  strong 
agitations  and  are  surrounded  by  very  considerable  dangers  to 
our  institutions  and  government.  The  imprisoned  winds  are 
let  loose.  The  East,  the  North,  and  the  stormy  South  com- 
bine to  throw  the  whole  sea  into  commotion,  to  toss  its  bil- 
lows to  the  skies,  and  disclose  its  profoundest  depths." 

"I  am  looking  out  for  no  fragment  upon  which  to  float 
away  from  the  wreck,  if  wreck  there  must  be,  but  for  the 
good  of  the  whole,  and  the  preservation  of  all;  and  there  is 
that  which  will  keep  me  to  my  duty  during  this  struggle, 
whether  the  sun  and  the  stars  shall  appear  for  many  days.  I 
speak  today  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union.  'Hear  me  for 
my  cause.'  I  speak  today  out  of  a  solicitous  and  anxious 
heart,  for  the  restoration  to  the  country  of  that  quiet  and 
that  harmony  which  make  the  blessings  of  this  Union  so  rich, 
and  so  dear  to  us  all." 


On  another  and  more  glorious  occasion  Webster,  referring  to 
his  own  eyes,  had  also  said: 

"Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold 
the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known  and 
honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced,  its 
arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  original  lustre,  not  a 
stripe  erased  or  polluted,  not  a  single  star  obscured,  bearing 
for  its  motto,  no  such  miserable  interrogatory  as  'What  is  all 
this  worth?'  nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly, 
'Liberty  first  and  Union  Afterward' ;  but  everywhere,  spread 
all  over  in  characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample 
folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in 
every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment, 
dear  to  every  true  American  heart — Liberty  and  Union,  now 
and  forever,  one  and  inseparable!" 

Lincoln  took  this  sentiment  for  his  own  throughout  the  war. 

The  men  of  the  Revolution  and  the  Constitutional  Convention 
had  long  since  departed.  The  great  men  of  their  succeeding  gen- 
eration were  dead;  Marshall,  whose  legal  mind  had  made  the  con- 
stitution a  cohesive  agreement  which  melted  and  held  the  states  in 
one  Union,  had  been  dead  a  score  of  years.  Calhoun,  of  South 
Carolina,  leader  in  its  great  fight  for  nullification  of  the  Tariff 
Act  of  1828  and  the  heresy  of  states  rights,  had  died  in  1850; 
Clay,  for  forty  years  a  favorite  in  national  politics,  who  said: 

"I  owe  a  paramount  allegiance  to  the  whole  nation  and  a 
subordinate  one  to  my  own  state," 

and,  who  through  the  Missouri  Compromise  and  other  peace  treat- 
ies, sought  to  do  the  impossible  task  of  homing  slavery  in  a  free 
land,  had  died  in  1852;  Webster,  whose  powerful  logic  had  often 
guided  Marshall  in  his  decision  on  the  constitution,  whose  elo- 
quence had  filled  the  Senate,  whose  patriotism  had  fired  the  na- 
tion, whose  wisdom  had  guided  the  ship  of  state,  was  no  more. 
His  great  heart  had  broken  when,  thinking  to  save  the  nation,  he 
had  joined  Clay  in  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise,  and 
had  lost  the  confidence  of  his  long-time  friends,  who  had  branded 
him  as  "Ichabod."  The  giants  were  dead.  The  Missouri  Com- 
promise was  repealed,  and  abolition,  like  Banquo's  ghost  at  the 
banquet,  would  not  down.  Slavery,  like  a  giant  specter,  stalked 
the  night.  The  fugitive  slave  bill  was  passed.  The  Kansas-Ne- 
braska Act  became  a  law.  Proslavery  men  flooded  across  the  Kan- 
sas border  to  make  it  a  slave  state.  Old  John  Brown,  with  his  law- 
less gang,  fought  his  war  on  the  Pottowatomie  and  Marais  de 
Cygne,.  only  soon  to  meet  his  tragic  end  at  Harper's  Ferry.  The 
nation  seemed  drifting  into  chaos.  Some  were  for  slavery  first, 
some  for  freedom  first — some  would  destroy  the  Union  to  save 
slavery,  others  would  lose  the  Union  to  destroy  slavery.  The  great 
Whig  party  had  dissolved  into  contending  factions,  bitterly  op- 


posed  to  each  other,  while  the  united  South  was  pressing  for  more 
territory  and  greater  power.  It  was  at  this  hour  there  emerged 
from  the  prairies  of  Illinois,  this  unknown  country  lawyer,  this 
phrase-maker,  whose  voice  became  the  rallying  call  of  the. whole 
North, 

"A  house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand.  I  believe  this 
Government  cannot  endure  permanently  half  slave  and  half 
free.  I  do  not  expect  the  Union  to  be  dissolved;  I  do  not  ex- 
pect the  house  to  fall;  but  I  do  expect  that  it  will  cease  to  be 
divided." 

To  us  now  it  seems  unbelievable  that  having  chosen  Lincoln  as 
their  president,  there  should  not  have  been  a  united  North  backing 
him  in  the  fierce  fight  to  save  the  Union,  but  that  was  far  from  the 
truth.  He  carried  the  burden  almost  alone  and  was  hindered,  im- 
peded, opposed  and  villified  by  those  who  should  have  been  his 
friends  and  assistants.  When  he  came  to  power,  he  found  a  gov- 
ernment which  had  been  betrayed  by  weakness  and  conspiracy  so 
that  its  forts,  its  munitions  of  war,  and  many  of  its  best  generals 
and  officers  were  already  under  the  control  of  and  in  the  service  of 
the  rebellion.  He  found  the  South  already  passing  resolutions  of 
secession,  openly  defiant,  vindictive  and  aggressive.  He  found  the 
North  hysterical,  divided  in  sentiment,  and  wavering  in  purpose. 
Those  who  had  been  blatant  for  abolition  were  now  ready  for 
peace  at  any  price,  and  willing  to  accede  to  any  terms. 

Horace  Greeley,  the  editor  of  the  greatest  paper  in  America, 
was  saying  in  his  columns  that  the  South  could  not  be  coerced. 
William  H.  Seward,  former  governor  of  New  York,  acknowledged 
leader  of  the  Senate  and  already  pledged  to  the  cabinet,  was  will- 
ing to  support  the  Crittenden  Compromise.  Wendell  Phillips,  and 
Charles  Sumner,  leaders  of  the  abolition  movement,  were  willing 
to  let  the  South  go  in  peace  if  only  it  carried  slavery  with  it. 

No  one  seemed  to  be  thinking  straight  until  Lincoln  in  his 
inaugural  address  said: 

"In  your  hands,  my  dissatisfied  fellow-countrymen,  and 
not  in  mine,  is  the  momentous  issue  of  civil  war.  The  Gov- 
ernment will  not  assail  you.  You  can  have  no  conflict  with- 
out being  yourselves  the  aggressors.  You  have  no  oath  reg- 
istered in  heaven  to  destroy  the  Government,  while  I  shall 
have  the  most  solemn  one  to  'preserve,  protect,  and  defend 
it'." 

"I  am  loath  to  close.  We  are  not  enemies,  but  friends.  We 
must  not  be  enemies.  Though  passion  may  have  strained  it 
must  not  break  our  bonds  of  affection.  The  mystic  chords  of 
memory,  stretching  from  every  battlefield  and  patriotic  grave 
to  every  living  heart  and  hearthstone  all  over  this  broad  land, 
will  yet  swell  the  chorus  of  the  Union,  when  again  touched, 
as  surely  they  will  be,  by  the  better  angels  of  our  nature." 


Notwithstanding  this  clear  cut  statement,  even  his  cabinet  did 
not  seem  to  understand  the  issue.  Seward,  Chase  and  Cameron 
were  defeated  candidates  for  the  presidency.  Each  envious  and 
suspicious  of  the  other  thought  himself  greater  than  his  master. 
A  month  after  the  inaugural,  Seward  presented  to  Lincoln 
"Some  Thoughts  for  the  President's  Consideration,"  in  which  he 
said  that  a  month  had  passed  and  the  government  had  no  settled 
policy.  He  then  laid  out  an  elaborate  program,  including  a  preda- 
tory war  against  foreign  powers,  which  he  thought  would  reunite 
the  Country  and  offered  himself  to  carry  the  program  into  effect, 
if  the  president  should  desire.  The  impertinence  would  have 
angered  a  lesser  man,  but  Lincoln  merely  called  his  attention  to 
the  statement  in  his  message,  and  said  that  he  would  himself  as- 
sume the  responsibility  of  carrying  out  the  policy  which  he  had 
then  announced,  with  the  approval  of  Mr.  Seward  himself. 

Some  of  his  own  cabinet  opposed  the  relief  of  Sumpter.  When 
the  Confederates  finally  fired  upon  Sumpter,  the  North  seemed 
to  recover  temporarily  from  its  panic  and  rallied  to  the  call  of 
arms.  A  new  dilemna  presented  itself  because  the  abolition  ele- 
ment demanded  immediate  liberation  of  the  slaves.  Lincoln  be- 
lieved such  an  act  to  be  unconstitutional  except  as  a  war  measure 
and  that  it  would  alienate  the  border  states  and  drive  them  into 
the  Confederacy.  With  clear  vision  he  saw  the  contest  to  be 
greater  than  freedom  or  slavery,  because  freedom  would  be  useless 
if  the  Union  were  lost. 

In  his  special  message  to  Congress,  called  July  4th,  1861,  he 
said: 

"And  this  issue  embraces  more  than  the  fate  of  these 
United  States.  It  presents  to  the  whole  family  of  man  the 
question  whether  a  constitutional  republic,  or  democracy — 
a  government  of  the  people  by  the  same  people — can  or  can 
not  maintain  its  territorial  integrity  against  its  own  domestic 
foes.  It  presents  the  question  whether  discontented  indi- 
viduals, too  few  in  numbers  to  control  administration  accord- 
ing to  organic  law  in  any  case,  can  always,  upon  the  pre- 
tenses made  in  this  case,  or  on  any  other  pretenses,  or  arbi- 
trarily without  any  pretense,  break  up  their  government,  and 
thus  practically  put  an  end  to  free  government  upon  the 
earth.  It  forces  us  to  ask,  Is  there  in  all  republics  this  in- 
herent and  fatal  weakness?  Must  a  government  of  necessity 
be  too  strong  for  the  liberties  of  its  own  people,  or  too  weak 
to  maintain  its  own  existence?" 

But  the  hot  heads  would  not  be  still.  General  Fremont,  in  com- 
mand in  the  West,  issued  an  order  freeing  the  slaves  of  all  rebels 
in  his  department.  Lincoln  rescinded  the  order,  and  administered 
a  rebuke  to  the  old  general.  A  cotorie  of  senators  and  representa- 
tives in  Congress,  unwilling  or  unable  to  understand,  joined  in  a 
cabal  which  lasted  throughout  the  war,  and  endeavored  to  take 


over  the  management  of  the  army,  and  criticised  and  lampooned 
the  president  unmercifully.  They  were  not  small  men,  but  were 
men  of  great  political  strength  and  power,  including  in  their  num- 
bers, Zachariah  Chandler,  Thaddeus  Stevens,  Ben  F.  Wade,  Wil- 
liam Henry  Winter,  and  at  times  Sumner  and  Trumball.  If  these 
men  had  had  their  way,  the  great  border  states  of  the  Middle  West 
would  have  been  forced  into  the  Confederacy  in  the  first  year  of 
the  war  and  the  issue  would  have  been  extremely  doubtful.  The 
war  would  have  been  a  narrow  one  of  abolition  or  slavery,  and 
would  not  have  been  fought  upon  the  particular  question  of 
whether  or  not  a  government  of  the  people  may  be  strong  enough 
to  maintain  its  own  integrity.  John  Hay  denominates  these  vindi- 
tive  congressmen  the  Jacobin  Club,  and  states  that  a  number  of  the 
president's  cabinet  were  in  communion  with  them  and  seemed  to 
sympathize  with  their  purpose. 

Not  only  was  the  president  hampered  by  his  own  advisers  and 
by  the  members  of  his  own  party  in  Congress,  but  he  was  unable 
to  get  action  and  co-operation  from  his  generals  in  the  field.  Scott 
was  superannuated  and  unable  to  handle  the  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac. McClellan,  a  brilliant  graduate  of  West  Point,  with  a  post 
graduate  observation  of  the  great  armies  of  Europe,  and  the 
Crimean  War,  and  fresh  from  recent  action  in  the  West  was  called 
to  Washington  and  given  command.  Raw  troops  by  the  thousands 
were  put  in  his  hands,  and  with  great  ability  he  whipped  them 
into  an  army,  but  he  lacked  initiative  and  courage.  He  was  always 
under-estimating  the  strength  of  his  army  and  overestimating  that 
of  his  antagonist.  Congress,  backed  by  the  Northern  sentiment, 
clamored  for  a  battle.  Lincoln  gave  him  his  marching  orders  but 
he  temporized  and  insisted  upon  re-enforcements  and  could  not  be 
brought  to  meet  the  enemy.  With  wonderful  loyalty,  Lincoln 
supported  him,  responded  to  each  new  demand,  and  used  every 
effort  to  encourage  him  to  give  battle  without  delay.  Finally  he 
laid  down  a  specific  program  for  McClellan  to  follow,  which  con- 
templated a  drive  straight  for  Richmond  and  included  attacking 
the  enemy  at  Manassas.  This  McClellan  refused  to  do,  only  to 
find  that  the  enemv  anticipated  the  very  advance  which  Lincoln 
had  ordered  and  had  evacuated  Manassas,  when,  with  monumental 
stupidity,  McClellan  marched  his  army  to  Manassas,  and  then 
marched  it  back  again,  making  himself  the  laughing  stock  of 
friends  and  enemies  alike.  Then,  contrary  to  Lincoln's  desire, 
McClellan  adopted  the  program  of  the  Peninsular  Campaign, 
which  resulted  in  a  miserable  failure. 

All  the  time  the  Jacobin  Club  was  criticising  and  demanding 
the  dismissal  of  McClellan.  The  Jacobins  had  forced  Lincoln  to 
dismiss  Cameron  from  his  cabinet,  and  Lincoln  had  put  one  of 
their  own  sympathizers,  Edward  M.  Stanton,  in  his  place.  Stanton 
joined  the  demand  for  McClellan's  resignation,  which  was  finally 
given,  and  Pope,  Hallack,  Hooker,  Burnside  and  Meade,  one  gen- 
eral after  another,  was  tried  out,  without  success.    The  Army  of 


the  Potomac,  splendid  on  parade  and  a  wonderful  fighting  ma- 
chine, lacking  only  a  general  in  command,  suffered  one  humiliat- 
ing defeat  after  another,  until  the  North,  weary  and  discouraged 
began  again  to  clamor  for  peace. 

Greeley,  always  critical,  of  uncertain  temper  and  decision,  fre- 
quently hysterical,  but  through  the  columns  of  the  Tribune  exert- 
ing an  influence  far  beyond  his  deserts,  was  one  of  the  President's 
most  bitter  critics.  He  claimed  that  the  president  was  stubborn  and 
unwilling  to  receive  overtures  of  peace  from  the  Confederates.  In 
support  of  his  contention,  he  claimed  that  the  Confederacy  had 
sent  messengers,  by  way  of  Canada,  to  negotiate  peace  and  called 
upon  the  president  to  admit  them  to  his  presence.  Lincoln,  who 
was  always  willing  to  negotiate  peace  on  the  basis  of  the  Union, 
promptly  called  Mr.  Greeley's  hand,  and  appointed  him  as  his 
agent  to  proceed  to  Canada  to  discover  if  there  was  or  was  not  any- 
thing in  the  report,  directing  him,  however,  to  treat  only  with 
accredited  agents  of  President  Davis,  and  then  on  the  under- 
standing that  the  purpose  of  negotiation  was  the  full  restoration 
of  the  Union  and  not  a  recognition  of%  the  Southern  states  as  an 
independent  nation.  Greeley  unwillingly  accepted  the  mission. 
He  found  the  delegates  had  no  credentials  and  would  not  treat  on 
the  conditions  imposed  by  Lincoln.  He  was  humiliated  and  de- 
feated but  was  not  manly  enough  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  been 
made  the  dupe  of  the  shrewd  politicians  of  the  Confederacy. 

Lincoln,  throughout,  was  always  loyal  to  his  generals  to  the 
last  degree.  McClellan,  was  was  a  brilliant  soldier,  was  inclined 
to  feel  that  even  the  president  was  beneath  serious  consideration. 
He  would  frequently  disregard  the  president's  directions  and  ex- 
pected the  president  to  come  to  his  house  to  see  him  instead  of 
going  to  the  White  House  to  see  the  president.  On  night  Lincoln 
took  John  Hay  and  went  to  McClellan's  house  for  a  conference. 
The  general  was  attending  the  wedding  of  an  army  officer,  and 
did  not  return  until  late  at  night.  Lincoln  and  Hay  waited  for  his 
return.  Finally  McClellan  came  in,  and,  although  he  was  evidently 
notified  that  Lincoln  was  there,  went  directly  up  stairs.  After 
waiting  a  considerable  time,  the  president  sent  word  to  McClellan 
that  he  would  like  to  see  him.  The  messenger  returned  saying 
that  the  general  had  retired.  Lincoln  and  Hay  then  departed. 
Hay  was  furious,  but  Lincoln  passed  the  matter  off  as  not  im- 
portant, with  a  rather  casual  remark,  without  the  censure  which 
the  general  deserved.  Lincoln,  either  at  that  time  or  at  some  other 
time,  remarked  that  he  would  be  willing  to  hold  McClellan's  horse 
or  even  black  his  shoes  if  thereby  he  could  bring  about  a  victory 
for  the  Union  Army.  It  may  be  noted,  however,  that  after  this 
incident,  the  conferences  were  held  at  the  White  House  and  not 
at  McClellan's  house. 

There  was  always  a  good  deal  of  rivalry  between  the  friends  of 
Chase  and  Seward.    Chase  belonged  to  the  coterie  which  made  up 


the  Jacobins.  The  Jacobins  were  very  bitter  against  Seward  and 
determined  to  force  his  resignation  from  the  cabinet.  They  sent  a 
committee  for  that  purpose  to  the  president.  Lincoln  listened  to 
them  and  told  them  to  come  back  the  next  day.  Chase  evidently 
knew  of  the  movement.  The  next  day  the  committee  returned  and 
found  themselves  in  a  cabinet  meeting  with  every  member  present 
except  Seward.  Lincoln  asked  them  to  repeat  their  demand,  which 
they  did,  anticipating  that  Chase  would  join  with  them.  Chase, 
however,  was  put  in  a  very  embarassing  position.  He  could  not 
take  an  open  stand  against  a  fellow  member  of  the  cabinet,  and  at 
the  same  time  did  not  wish  to  appear  to  desert  the  members  of  his 
own  clique.  The  meeting  was  not  satisfactory.  The  next  morning 
Chase  called  upon  the  president,  and  said  that  he  had  been  put  in 
a  false  position,  and  that  under  the  circumstances  thought  he 
should  resign,  and  withsome  hesitation  pulled  a  resignation  from 
his  pocket.  Before  he  could  return  it  Lincoln  reached  for  it  and 
said  that  he  was  very  glad  to  have  it  and  would  take  it  under  con- 
sideration. In  the  meantime,  Seward  had  tendered  his  resigna- 
tion. Thereupon,  Lincoln  took  both  resignations  and  returned 
each  of  them  with  the  statement  that  he  could  not  spare  either  one 
and  insisted  upon  both  remaining  in  the  cabinet.  By  this  clever 
maneuver,  the  opponents  of  Seward  were  thwarted  because  if 
Seward's  resignation  were  accepted,  Chase's  would  be  also. 

There  is  a  multitude  of  Lincoln  stories  supposed  to  have  been 
told  by  him  or  about  him.  A  few  of  them,  well  authenticated,  will 
illustrate  his  sagacity  in  handling  men,  his  patience,  his  humility 
and  utter  lack  of  envy  or  selfishness. 

Stanton  was  a  very  competent  but  ill-natured  man,  utterly  de- 
void of  any  sense  of  humor.  He  would  frequently  disregard  the 
orders  of  the  president,  putting  his  opinion  above  that  of  his  chief. 
One  day,  a  man  made  application  to  Lincoln  for  a  more  or  less 
trivial  matter.  Lincoln  gave  him  a  note  to  Stanton  directing  Stan- 
ton to  grant  the  application.  Very  soon  the  man  came  back  and 
said  Stanton  refused  to  carry  out  the  order,  and  said  that  Lincoln 
was  a  fool.  Lincoln  said,  "Did  Mr.  Stanton  say  I  was  a  fool?" 
The  man  said  "Yes,  he  used  those  very  words."  Lincoln  said, 
"Well,  Mr.  Stanton,  usually  knows  what  he  is  talking  about  and 
always  means  what  he  says,  so  if  he  said  I  was  a  fool,  I  guess  he  is 
right." 

On  another  occasion,  however,  when  Stanton  refused  to  carry 
out  the  order  of  the  president,  Lincoln  simply  looked  at  him  and 
said,  "Mr.  Secretary,  you  will  have  to  do  it,"  and  he  did.  Stan- 
ton was  always  impatient  at  Lincoln  for  his  story  telling,  and 
especially  for  a  habit  which  he  had  of  opening  the  cabinet  meet- 
ings with  reading  a  few  passages  from  Artemus  Ward's  book. 
Lincoln  was  fond  of  Artemus  Ward.  One  night,  long  after  mid- 
night, when  his  two  secretaries,  Hay  and  Nicholay,  were  working 
in  the  White  House,  Lincoln  came  out  in  his  night  gown,  with 
Artemus  Ward's  book  in  his  hand,  and  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the 

10 


table  read  from  the  book  to  the  young  men  for  a  long  time,  ap- 
parently oblivious  to  the  fact  that  he  presented  a  ludicrous  appear- 
ance, but  enjoying  the  fun  of  the  book  immensely. 

There  was  a  strain  of  mysticism  in  his  nature,  which  seemed  to 
be  reflected  in  his  dreams.  There  was  a  certain  dream  which  he 
had  many  times  and  which  seemed  to  presage  the  results  of  an 
approaching  battle.  A  few  nights  before  his  assassination,  he  had 
a  remarkable  dream  which  he  related  to  his  family.  He  dreamed 
that  he  awoke  in  the  night  and  found  the  White  House  unusually 
quiet,  although  he  could  hear  a  distinct  sobbing.  He  arose  and 
found  all  of  the  rooms  deserted  until  he  came  to  the  great  East 
Room,  which  he  found  lighted  and  the  body  of  the  president  lying 
on  a  catafalque,  with  mourners  in  the  room.  The  president  had 
been  assassinated.  From  the  time  of  his  election,  he  seemed  to  have 
a  vision  of  the  great  task  which  was  before  him  and  that  after  the 
accomplishment  of  that  task,  he  would  meet  with  the  death  which 
in  fact  awaited  him. 

When  he  was  a  candidate  for  Congress,  his  opponent  was  a 
preacher  named  Peter  Cartwright.  Cartwright  was  a  revivalist  and 
used  the  popular  methods  of  the  day.  On  one  occasion,  Lincoln 
dropped  into  a  meeting  held  by  Cartwright.  In  the  course  of  the 
meeting,  he  asked  all  of  those  who  wished  to  go  to  Heaven  to 
stand.  Many  of  the  audience  arose.  He  then  asked  all  those  who 
did  not  wish  to  go  to  hell  to  arise.  THe  rest  of  the  audience  arose, 
except  Lincoln.  Cartwright  seized  the  opportunity  and  said:  "I 
notice  Mr.  Lincoln  in  the  audience  and  he  is  the  only  one  who 
remains  seated.  Might  I  ask  Mr.  Lincoln  where  he  expects  to  go?" 
Lincoln  arose  and  said  that  he  had  dropped  into  the  meeting  for  a 
religious  service  and  was  not  expecting  to  be  interrogated  as  to 
personal  matters,  but  since  the  question  had  been  asked,  he  would 
answer  frankly  that  he  expected  to  go  to  Congress — and  he  did. 

When  McClellan  was  training  the  army  of  the  Potomac  about 
Washington,' he  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  in  dress  parade  and 
postponed  action  with  the  enemy  after  Lincoln  had  directed  him 
many  times  to  proceed.  Lincoln  finally  suggested  to  McClellan 
one  day  that  if  he  did  not  wish  to  use  the  army  he  would  like  to 
borrow  it  for  a  few  days. 

The  war  dragged  along  with  more  defeats  for  the  North  than 
victories  until  the  fall  of  '62.  There  had  been  a  constant  running 
fight  and  criticism  of  the  president  by  the  press,  by  the  Jacobin 
Club  and  by  the  newspapers  of  England  and  France.  There  were 
jealousies  and  bickerings  in  the  cabinet.  Stanton  was  capable  but 
surly,  insulting  and  insubordinate  to  his  chief.  McClellan,  openly, 
insulted  and  ignored  the  president.  The  North  was  still  demand- 
ing the  emancipation  of  the  slaves.  The  Jacobins  were  demand- 
ing that  Seward  be  dismissed  and  someone  of  their  number  put 
in  his  place  as  secretary  of  state.  England  was  demanding  satisfac- 
tion for  the  Trent  affair.  Napoleon  was  attempting  to  get  a  foot- 
hold in  America.     The  laboring  men  of  England  were  hostile  be- 


11 


LIBRARY  " — 
UNIVERSITY  Of  ILLINOIS 


cause  they  were  deprived  of  the  Southern  trade.  New  York  busi- 
ness and  industries  were  talking  of  secession  for  the  same  reason. 
Lincoln  made  a  last  call  on  Congress  and  the  border  states  to 
accept  emancipation  on  condition  that  the  government  appropriate 
four  hundred  million  dollars  to  reimburse  the  slave  holders  for 
freedom  of  their  slaves.  The  cabinet  was  not  willing,  Congress 
refused  to  pass  the  law,  and  the  border  states  refused  co-operation. 
Lincoln  called  his  cabinet  together  and  read  to  them  the  Emanci- 
pation Proclamation,  telling  them  that  he  did  not  wish  advice  as 
to  whether  or  not  he  should  issue  the  Proclamation  because  he  had 
himself  decided  that,  but  would  be  glad  of  suggestions  as  to 
phraseology.  From  that  hour  he  had  cut  loose  from  his  advisers 
as  well  as  his  critics  and  became  sole  master  of  the  situation.  At 
Seward's  suggestion,  he  withheld  the  Proclamation  until  the 
North  had  a  victory,  so  that  the  Proclamation  might  not  seem  a 
last  desperate  expedient,  but  rather  an  act  of  confident  aggression. 
The  Battle  of  Antietam  furnished  the  opportunity  and  the 
Proclamation  was  issued. 

The  turning  point  of  the  war  finally  came  on  the  4th  of  July, 
1863,  when  Vicksburg  fell  and  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg  was 
fought  and  won.  The  war  might  have  ended  then  had  Meade  not 
let  the  army  of  Lee  slip  through  his  fingers  and  get  away.  At  last 
Lincoln  found  the  man,  called  Grant  from  Vicksburg  to  the 
Potomac  and  sent  Sherman  to  Atlanta  and  the  sea.  It  was  not  all 
over.  Some  terrible  defeats  were  still  suffered,  but  slowly  and 
surely  the  splendid  army  which  McClellan  had  developed  was  used 
to  close  in  upon  the  gallant  Confederate  forces  until  ultimate  de- 
feat was  certain. 

As  we  look  at  it  now,  it  would  seem  that  in  the  spring  of  '64, 
anyone  must  know  that  the  end  was  near,  but  the  Democratic 
Convention  which  nominated  McClellan,  resolved: 

"That  this  convention  does  explicitly  declare,  as  the  sense 
of  the  American  people,  after  four  years  of  failure  to  restore 
the  Union  by  the  experiment  of  war,  during  which,  under 
the  pretense  of  a  military  necessity,  or  war  power  higher 
than  the  Constitution,  the  Constitution  itself  has  been  dis- 
regarded in  every  part,  and  the  public  liberty  and  the  private 
right  alike  trodden  down  and  the  material  prosperity  of  the 
country  essentially  impaired,  justice,  humanity,  liberty  and 
the  public  welfare  demand  that  immediate  efforts  be  made 
for  a  cessation  of  hostilities,  with  a  view  to  an  ultimate  con- 
vention of  the  States,  or  other  peaceably  means  to  the  end 
that  at  the  earliest  practicable  moment  peace  may  be  restored 
on  the  basis  of  the  Federal  Union  of  the  States." 

Chase,  still  a  member  of  Lincoln's  cabinet,  and  a  consort  of  the 
Jacobins,  believed  that  he  could  be  nominated  in  opposition  to  his 
chief  and  plotted  to  that  end.  But  the  common  people  whom 
Lincoln  loved  knew  him  better  snd  valued  him  higher  than  did 

12 


the  politicians.  When  the  convention  came  he  was  overwhelm- 
ingly nominated. 

Even  after  this  demonstration  of  his  popularity  with  the  people 
of  the  North,  a  conspiracy  was  formed  in  August  to  force  him  to 
resign  from  the  nomination  on  the  ground  that  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  elected.  Greeley  and  the  Jacobins  made  such  noice  that 
Lincoln  himself  believed  for  a  time  that  he  would  be  beaten  at  the 
polls  but  he  refused  to  resign.  Again  the  people  showed  their  un- 
faltering trust  in  him  and  the  conspiracy  failed. 

The  confederacy  was  slowly  but  surely  approaching  its  doom. 
In  desperation  Jefferson  Davis  again  sent  messengers  to  sue  for 
peace — or  rather  for  an  armistice — this  time  with  credentials.  Lin- 
coln and  Seward  met  them  at  Hampton  Roads.  Lincoln  offered  an 
honorable  peace,  conditional  always  upon  a  reunited  country.  The 
delegates  equivocated  and  asked  for  an  armistice.  It  is  said  that 
Lincoln  took  a  clean  sheet  of  paper  and  said  to  Alexander  H. 
Stephens  (one  of  the  delegates) — '"Stephens,  let  me  write  'Union' 
at  the  top  of  this  sheet  and  you  may  write  what  you  will  below." 

The  conference  came  to  nothing,  and  the  battle  went  on.  Rich- 
mond fell — Lee  surrendered  at  Appomatox  and  the  war  was  vir- 
tually over. 

Lincoln  was  inexorable  in  contention  for  principle  but  gentle 
and  yielding  as  a  woman  in  his  attitude  toward  persons  who  dif- 
fered with  him.    Catch  his  spirit  in  the  second  inaugural  address: 

"Fondly  do  we  hope,  fervently  do  we  pray,  that  this 
mighty  scourge  of  war  may  speedily  pass  away.  Yet,  if  God 
wills  that  it  continue  until  all  the  wealth  piled  by  the  bonds- 
man's two  hundred  and  fifty  years  of  unrequited  toil  shall 
be  sunk,  and  until  every  drop  of  blood  drawn  with  the  lash 
shall  be  paid  by  another  drawn  with  the  sword,  as  was  said 
three  thousand  years  ago,  so  still  it  must  be  said  'the  judg- 
ments of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous  altogether.' 

"With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all,  with 
firmness  in  the  right  as  God  gives  us  to  see  the  right,  let  us 
strive  on  to  finish  the  work  we  are  in,  to  bind  up  the  nation's 
wounds,  to  care  for  him  who  shall  have  borne  the  battle 
and  for  his  widow  and  his  orphan,  to  do  all  which  may 
achieve  and  cherish  a  just  and  lasting  peace  among  ourselves 
and  with  all  nations." 

His  personal  triumph  was  complete.  His  loved  country  was 
saved.     He  walked  through  the  streets  of  Richmond. 

On  April  14,  1865,  the  stars  and  stripes  were  raised  again  over 
the  walls  of  Sumpter.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  delivered  the  address. 
The  president  was  in  Washington  riding  in  the  parks  with  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  It  was  the  happiest  day  of  a  life  more  burdened  with 
sorrow  than  any  since  the  Christ.  It  was  the  fatal  day.  Beecher 
said: 

is 


"Never  did  two  such  orbs  of  experience  meet  in  one  hemi- 
sphere, as  the  joy  and  the  sorrow  of  the  same  week  in  this 
land.  The  joy  was  as  sudden  as  if  no  man  had  expected  it, 
and  as  entrancing  as  if  it  had  fallen  a  sphere  from  heaven.  It 
rose  up  over  sobriety,  and  swept  business  from  its  moorings, 
and  ran  down  through  the  land  in  irresistible  course.  Men 
embraced  each  other  in  brotherhood  that  were  strangers  in 
the  flesh.  They  sang,  or  prayed,  or,  deeper  yet,  many  could 
only  think  thanksgiving  and  weep  gladness.  That  peace  was 
sure;  that  government  was  firmer  than  ever;  that  the  land 
was  cleansed  of  plague;  that  the  ages  were  opening  to  our 
footsteps,  and  we  were  to  begin  a  march  of  blessings;  that 
blood  was  staunched,  and  scowling  enmities  were  sinking 
like  storms  beneath  the  horizon;  that  the  dear  fatherland, 
nothing  lost,  much  gained,  was  to  raise  up  in  unexampled 
honor  among  the  nations  of  the  earth — these  thoughts,  and 
that  undistinguishable  throng  of  fancies,  the  hopes,  and  de- 
sires, and  yearnings,  that  filled  the  soul  with  tremblings  like 
the  heated  air  of  midsummer  days — all  these  kindled  up 
such  a  surge  of  joy  as  no  words  may  describe. 

"In  one  hour  joy  lay  without  a  pulse,  without  a  gleam,  or 
breath.  A  sorrow  came  that  swept  through  the  land  as  huge 
storms  sweep  through  the  forest  and  field,  rolling  thunder 
along  the  sky,  disheveling  the  flowers,  daunting  every  singer 
in  thicket  or  forest,  and  pouring  blackness  and  darkness  across 
the  land  and  up  the  mountains.  Did  ever  so  many  hearts,  in 
so  brief  a  time,  touch  two  such  boundless  feelings?  It  was 
the  uttermost  of  joy;  it  was  the  uttermost  of  sorrow — noon 
and  midnight,  without  a  space  between." 

The  story  of  his  foul  assassination  is  familiar  to  every  school 
child.  He  fell  in  defense  of  that  government  which  he  loved  so 
well,  as  truthfully  a  victim  of  the  rebellion  as  any  soldier  on  the 
battlefield.  Sad  and  tragic  as  it  was,  I  would  not  have  had  him  die 
at  any  other  time  or  in  any  other  way.  It  was  at  the  moment  of 
assured  victory  and  of  supreme  joy.  His  personal  triumph  had 
been  complete.  It  was  without  pain  or  suffering,  or  sorrow  or 
disappointment.  He  died  as  had  so  many  of  his  own  boys  whom 
he  loved  so  well. 

Had  he  lived  to  attempt  the  reconstruction  of  the  rebellious 
states,  he  would  have  fought  an  unequal  battle  wtih  his  enemies 
in  Congress,  who,  after  the  war  was  over,  would  have  assumed, 
and  probably  could  have  maintained,  the  right  of  the  legislative 
over  the  executive,  in  imposing  conditions  of  reconstruction. 

He  seemed  to  me  like  some  faithful,  great-hearted  police  dog  de- 
fending a  home  and  inmates  whom  he  loved,  while  the  house  dogs 
were  snarling  and  snapping  at  his  heels;  defending  against  some 
invader,  and  when  he  fell  prostrate,  the  curs  began  to  lick  his 
wounds,  and  all  the  family,  aroused  at  last,  came  running  out  and 
fell  in  tears  over  his  dead  body. 

14 


About  twenty  miles  from  Philadelphia,  along  the  banks  of  a 
river,  lies  Valley  Forge,  where  the  Revolutionary  troops  spent  the 
darkest  winter  of  the  Revolution.  Batteries  have  been  replaced 
along  the  valley;  fac  similies  of  the  huts  in  which  the  soldiers 
lived  and  suffered  have  been  built  in  different  parts  of  the  valley, 
and  there,  nestling  in  the  forests  hard  by  one  of  these  shacks,  at  the 
personal  solicitation  of  a  rector  of  an  Episcopal  Church,  has  been 
erected  a  little  cathedral,  perfect  in  all  its  details;  the  transcept, 
altar  and  choir,  with  one  of  the  sweetest  organs  in  America.  Close 
by  the  altar  there  is  a  beautiful  white  marble  figure  of  Washing- 
ton, kneeling  in  prayer  as  he  often  kneeled  in  person,  to  renew  that 
courage  and  faith  which  he  needed  to  carry  forward  to  consumma- 
tion the  task  which  he  bore  in  his  solitude.  Through  this  shrine, 
there  went  many  thousands  of  our  boys  who  fought  in  the  World 
War,  there  to  listen  to  the  music  and  to  receive  the  benediction 
of  the  priest,  and  an  inspiration  for  their  mission,  standing  as  they 
were  on  the  holy  ground  of  the  Revolution. 

On  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  at  a  far  end  of  the  mall  from 
the  Capitol  Dome,  a  loving  people  have  erected  a  stately  marble 
monument,  the  most  beautiful  in  America,  in  the  fashion  of  a 
Greek  temple.  The  interior  is  one  great  spacious  room,  entirely 
empty  except  for  the  figure  of  Lincoln  seated  there  alone,  as  he 
sat  for  four  weary  years  in  the  White  House  alone,  and  with  his 
unfaltering  courage  and  infinite  patience  and  unwavering  faith  in 
Divine  Providence  won  the  war,  thus  assuring,  not  to  America 
alone,  but  to  all  humanity,  that  free  government  of  the  people,  by 
the  people  and  for  the  people  should  not  perish  forever  from 
the  earth. 


15 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS  UR8ANA 

973.7L63GST722A  C001 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  TOPEKA 


3  0112  031822585 


